


the ghost inside

by commanderbrosca



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Biphobia, Bisexuality, Canon Bisexual Character, Gen, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commanderbrosca/pseuds/commanderbrosca
Summary: For a long time, Jacob is so sure there’s something wrong with him.





	the ghost inside

The first time Jacob dares to look at a boy the way he looks at girls, he is thirteen.

 

The boy is a year older than him, and he bullies him mercilessly. Evie threatens to break his legs, bless her heart, but Jacob never once defends himself. When he tries to speak, his tongue feels foreign in his mouth, large and thick like a dead slug.

 

It’s uncharacteristic of him, a boy who can almost never find the will to be silent even at the most inconvenient times.

 

He feels as though something is wrong, but he can’t figure out what.

 

The boy is whip smart, and his smile is devastatingly sharp. Jacob has seen his father shout at him outside school, and he knows that he takes his pain out on younger boys that can’t fight back. What Jacob feels for him isn’t quite pity, and it isn’t quite fear. It feels like a blend of both, with a tinge of longing, and it gnaws at Jacob’s insides day and night.

 

His heart is full and heavy like an anchor weighing him down. He worries himself to sleep, and can’t help but wonder if he’s becoming ill. His appetite weakens. Evie worries, but he avoids her piercing stare and suffers in silence.

 

One day, when they are all on break at school, playing in the mud and laughing, he must say something the boy doesn’t like. Perhaps he looks at him wrong. It doesn’t matter why or how it starts, but suddenly the boy backhands him in one swift movement, and Jacob falls to the ground, heart pounding in embarrassment and blood on his lips.

 

Still, as the boy leans over him, he can say nothing. His hair shines in the sun, golden curls framing his face, and his lips look so soft that Jacob can't tear his eyes away. The boy eventually notices his gaze, and scrambles back with a shout.

 

“What’re you, some kind of bloody queer?”

 

Jacob shakes his head quickly. He tries to stammer out an apology, but even his throat is stiff with fear. Evie, playing jump rope nearby, notices the commotion and runs over at once.

 

“Shove off!” she yells, baring her teeth and pushing the boy away.

 

He sneers. “Need your sister to fight your battles for you, huh? Figures. I’ve got my eye on you, you little queer!”

 

Jacob’s lip trembles. He struggles desperately not to cry as Evie holds out her hand and helps him up, but he doesn’t succeed. He clenches his teeth so tight that his jaw creaks, and he sways forward, light on his feet.

 

“Don’t listen to him,” she reassures him quietly. She dusts off his coat and wipes his tears away with her thumb. “He doesn’t know you. Not like I do.”

 

_No_ , Jacob thinks. No one knows him. Not really. He’s isn't even sure if he knows himself anymore.

 

For years after, every time Jacob looks another boy in the eyes for too long, shame burns like hot coals deep in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

When Jacob is nineteen, he meets William.

 

William is the most breathtaking man he’s ever seen in Crawley, and Jacob is instantly smitten. 

 

The first time he dares to approach him is in the local pub. He’s chatting up a pair of simpering, affluent ladies, and it’s clear he’s well-off. Gaudy rings of different sizes and colors adorn his thick fingers. His coat is fashioned from quality black velvet. Even his aftershave smells expensive, the rich and heady aroma of sandalwood and jasmine drawing Jacob closer and closer like a siren’s song.

 

He shouldn't dare talk to him. He really shouldn’t. But even across the bar, Jacob can see his blue eyes shine like the clearest waters, and he slinks closer, hesitant but curious.

 

Not even an hour later, they’re pouncing on each other in the corner of a dingy nearby alley. William pushes Jacob into a cold stone wall and his bones rattle and shake, his skin tingles like he’s bathing in holy fire, and the world around him is a kaleidoscope of colors that feel bright and new.

 

Here in the secret shadows of the city, he worships a man for the first time in his life.

 

Jacob feels dangerous, like a predator sinking his claws into a fresh kill. He feels the burning shame again and again. He feels dirty.

 

But he pulls William close and presses an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, his pulse racing when William growls in response and lifts his legs up and around his waist. He calls him things like “Darling boy,” whispering sweetly in his ear, and Jacob shivers like he’s caught a cold.

 

He feels alive like he’s never felt before.

 

They kiss for what feels like hours, and the voices that are always with him howl like a pack of wolves, telling him that he’s wrong, that he’s bad, that he shouldn’t feel as good as he feels.

 

But when Jacob returns home that very night, he bites his arm until the pain drowns out the howling, and he takes himself in his hand, quiet and careful in the warmth of his own bed.

 

He comes with a strangled gasp, thinking of William’s strong arms holding him down.

 

He feels alive like he’s never felt before.

 

* * *

 

 

Jacob waits two months before he tells William that he loves him, his voice trembling and quiet while they hold each other in the dark.

William says nothing.

The voices inside him reach a cacophony of shrieking metal. Jacob sits, frozen in place, until William gives him a pitying look. 

“Jacob,” he starts. Jacob’s heart sinks like a stone. “I hope you realize that this… what we have… it cannot last.”

William reaches for his arm, trying to give hollow comfort, but Jacob pulls away. “What do you mean?” he asks numbly.

“You must realize, my dear-”

“Don't.” Jacob says, shaking his head violently. William's voice, cloyingly sweet, suddenly makes him feel ill. “Don't call me that. Not now.”

“Jacob, please. You have to think. We are both men, and we cannot be together,” William pleads. “Not for long. Not in the way that you want.”

All Jacob sees is fear in his eyes. William is afraid to love him. William is afraid, and Jacob is thirteen again, and all he can taste is the splintering tang of blood in his mouth.

He stands on shaky legs, throwing off William's grasping hands. This time, he can’t stay quiet.

“You're a coward,” he says.

He leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s early morning, the grass is glistening with dew, and the autumn air is crisp and cool. Jacob stumbles over cobblestones, wiping at his nose. He wants desperately to lose himself in drink, but all the pubs remind him of jasmine and cruel blue eyes.

Instead, he looks for Evie.

He finds her perched elegantly on the roof of their home, surveying their kingdom. When she sees him she smiles wide and helps pull him up.

“Look who isn’t out wreaking his usual havoc tonight. Very interesting…”

He says nothing, crawling closer to rest his head on her shoulder.

She lets him get comfortable and starts to absentmindedly run her fingers through his hair. He looks at the city in the glow of the moon and thinks of their mother and simpler times.

“Jacob…” she says suddenly, surprise in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

He startles back to reality and realizes that tears are slipping down his nose. 

“Nothin’,” he grumbles, cheeks turning deep red.

For a moment, she is quiet, and when she suddenly asks a question, Jacob can barely hear her.

“Is it William?”

He stiffens. “What about him?”

“Jacob.” From this angle he can’t exactly see her, but he already knows she’s making  _ that  _ face: that haughty glare with one raised eyebrow that she only uses when she thinks he’s being absolutely ridiculous. Which is often, really.

“I’ve seen you together, and I see the way you look at him. Come now, I’m your sister.”

Jacob sighs. The steady scratch of her nails on his scalp almost drive him to sleep, but he eventually whispers an answer, soft and ashamed.

“He doesn’t want me.”

She leans down and tries to meet his eyes, but he looks away.

“I thought he did, but… I was just being foolish.”

“Jacob…”

“I think there’s something wrong. With me, I mean.”

“Jacob,” she repeats, stern this time. “There is not a  _ thing _ wrong with you. I promise. Some people just have a harder time accepting who they are, that’s all.”

“I told him I loved him.” Jacob keeps his voice low, still nervous that anyone could hear. “But he was too afraid.”

“I'm sorry.”

He swallows tightly.

“Do you ever… feel things? About girls?”

It is a question that feels almost too prying, but Jacob wants desperately to feel as though he isn’t alone. He wants to think about anything other than the cavernous maw in his chest.

Evie looks up at the stars, smiling softly. 

“Yes, actually. It is normal, Jacob, you needn't worry, really.”

“Oh.”

She grips him tighter. “Listen. We will always love who we love. No one can tell you that it isn’t real, because of course it is. It’s what you feel. There can’t be anything wrong with that, can there?”

As she speaks, the sky above them slowly shifts, welcoming a new day and waking the world. A dreamy pink and orange glow saturates the clouds, and Jacob pulls himself up. He wraps an arm around Evie, tugging her close. 

“Perhaps you’re right,” he says, finally. 

She grins and taps him affectionately on the end of his nose. “I always am.”

They sit in silence, then, watching the sun rise. Jacob’s heart is lighter than it was, and he thinks of a future where he no longer has to be afraid.

He feels alive like he’s never felt before.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a lot of complicated feelings about sexuality lately, so this was really cathartic for me to write. I hope anyone else who has ever struggled with something like this finds some sense of relief and/or solidarity here. If you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm always available.
> 
> The title is from “First Time He Kissed a Boy” by Kadie Elder.
> 
> Come say hello on tumblr @ commanderbrosca!


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